


Stay

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vulnerable Keith (Voltron), flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 19:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18482989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Lance asks Keith to stay.





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This is barely edited and could be expanded upon but I’m in a mood.  
> ~  
> Inspired by blunerri_pomchi’s  
> klance comic. A potential follow-up/ending for it. 
> 
> https://instagram.com/bluberri_pomchi?utm_source=ig_profile_share&igshid=k88besaa1985

Lance catches Keith’s wrist as he turns away, desperate to keep him from running.

“Please.” The word rushes out of him, fast and desperate. “Please don’t leave.”

Keith stops, his head hanging but doesn’t turn around. His arm’s stretched behind him, caught in Lance’s hand.

“I don’t have a future here,” he says. “At least not one I want to see play out.” He scowls down the hall, refusing to look at Lance, afraid he’ll see how scared Keith is, how out of place. Better to run before the others realize it. They can’t force him out if he’s already gone.

“What about mine?” Lance swallows the fear of rejection and focuses on the fear of loss, of what could be, what he could lose if he isn’t brave enough to say something now.

Keith’s head snaps up and he stares at Lance wide-eyed.

“Please stay.” Lance's eyes catch Keith’s and don’t let go. “You’re the future I want.” His hand falls from Keith’s wrist, his eyes burning.

Everyone he’s ever loved and wanted has walked away from him. Either because he was too much or not enough and it hurts. It hurts that Keith could do it too.

“Please let me be worth something to someone for once.” The words are heated with self-loathing and Lance chokes, tears blurring his vision as he bares a part of himself, bloody and painful. He takes a terrified step forward, leaving himself open to more pain.

“Choose me. Please.” His eyes are bright and searching, pleading. “Choose me,” he says softly, hand extended between them, offering his heart as he does.

Keith stares at Lance’s hand, equally as terrified, eyes darting up to his face and back again, like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Stay,” Lance begs.

Keith’s fingers curl against his thighs, hating himself for wanting, for the traitorous flicker of hope he feels in his chest, fragile as butterfly wings. Hope only makes it hurt worse.

“I don’t think I know how.” And he doesn’t, that’s what scares him. Keith isn’t sure he knows how to put down roots, to make someone his home and it scares him because he wants that.

“Try.” Lance’s hand trembles.

When Keith doesn’t take it Lance’s face falls, fingers curling in as he slowly lowers his hand, the rejection leaving him hollow and exposed, like a nerve. Every breath hurts and he grinds his teeth to keep from making the sound building in the back of his throat. Tears stream down his face and he struggles to breathe as his heart hits the floor.

Keith makes an aborted move towards him, mouth stuttering open and shut like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. His hand darts up after Lance’s of its own volition before he pulls it away, tucked protectively against his side where he can’t be hurt.

Lance blinks, tears sliding down his cheeks and he aches, but slowly opens his hand again, still offering, still asking, taking one more chance.

Keith stares between Lance and his proffered hand, all that he’s offering and slowly, so slowly, he reaches for Lance.

Lance doesn’t move, doesn’t reach any further, doesn’t curl his fingers, doesn’t try to coax Keith in to him. He holds still, trembling with the force of it, letting Keith, skittish Keith who’s terrified to care, come to him.

Finally his fingers settle in Lance’s palm, feather-light, Lance’s resting gently against his, just as scared, ready to run.

“It’s okay,” Lance whispers, tears still dripping from his chin and Keith trusts him.

His hand settles in Lance’s, hesitant but slowly firming and Lance’s fingers finally curl around his, not to trap, but to support him.

Keith’s breathing is stuttered and he holds Lance’s hand but doesn’t move closer.

“I don’t know what this means,” he says, confused and frightened, still half-turned down the hall.

“It means I care.” Lance’s eyes are still wet, his heart reaching for Keith. “It means I want you. It means I want to see what we could be if you’ll just give me a chance.” He squeezes Keith’s hand, afraid he’ll run but Keith only drops his head and toes at the floor. His fingers twitch in Lance’s hand, both their arms almost fully extended, neither one willing to take a step closer; Lance afraid to take a step forward, Keith of taking one back.

Keith swallows thickly, breath thin like he can’t pull enough air into his lungs.

“Okay.”

Lance’s hand trembles. “Okay?” His breath hitches, catching on his ribs like fish hooks and Keith nods, looking up at Lance from under his hair.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, body finally turning away from the hall and towards Lance. “Okay.”

Lance’s breath escapes him in pieces and he runs his free hand through his hair, rubbing away his tears with a knuckle. He squeezes Keith’s hand again and after a moment Keith steps forward. It’s small and short but Lance’s heart leaps. And then he steps into Lance, fitting himself tentatively against him.

Lance cautiously brings his arms up and embraces him, Keith’s hands resting gingerly on his hips. He turns his face into Lance’s neck and closes his eyes, feeling oddly fragile.

Lance holds him tighter when Keith doesn’t try to run, tucking his chin over Keith’s shoulder, holding him close, hands sliding up over his back.

“Thank you.” Keith’s voice is muffled against Lance’s neck but it’s still weak and choked with tears he hadn’t expected to cry.

Lance lets a hand settle on Keith’s lower back beneath his breastplate where the armor won’t block it, where he can feel the pressure if not the heat of Lance’s skin. He isn’t sure what Keith is thanking him for but he thinks maybe he understands.

“You’re welcome.”


End file.
